


alexithymia

by mjmis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, and i kinda suck at writing smh, but i love oikawa tooru, my vocabulary sucks, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjmis/pseuds/mjmis
Summary: alexithymia (n.): the inability to express your feelings. aka, oikawa tooru’s inner fight about his feelings for his childhood best friend.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru & Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	alexithymia

**Author's Note:**

> hey lol it’s me again! i’m a lovebot for like so many haikyuu characters rn but, oikawa has always had my interest from the first time i watched the anime so… here you go?

“I was walking past your house; you had your door open, and I saw you dancing in your kitchen. Now whenever I hear that song, I think about you.”

Oikawa Tooru was six when he stumbled upon a mini-you dancing to your favorite song in the kitchen, the hot summer heat seeming to not bother you in the slightest. He gazed over at you in awe, aspiring to be like you. You noticed him staring and gave him a shy smile. That small action erupted butterflies in the little boy’s chest, and he could feel himself smiling back.

Six years later, he found himself sitting on your roof with you, gazing at the reflection of stars in your eyes. You gasped as you took in the view, keeping your eyes fixated on the millions of shining particles in front of you. Oikawa, however, was too busy looking at you and the expression on your face. One day, he wanted to impress you like that. One day, he would impress you like that.

“It’s so beautiful!” you breathed, still mesmerized by the crowd of stars ahead of you. Oikawa nodded in agreement, but not in describing the stars.

Another six years later, you found yourself attending his games frequently as the manager of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team. You didn’t know how Oikawa had persuaded you to apply, and you still didn’t understand why he wanted you to apply in the first place. There were countless nights where he would talk non-stop about volleyball, but you understood since he worked so hard to get where he was now. You refused to believe that this was that one boy that had snot running down his nose on those cold winter nights. Oikawa caught you staring and gave you a wink to indicate that he had noticed. You turned around in frustration, letting out a slight huff at the arrogance of that man. 

As you watched him crumble on your bed after losing the semi-finals, your heart clenched in second-hand pain for the boy, sitting on the edge of the mattress as you slowly lifted his ice-cold face to meet yours. You wiped away the fat tears rolling down his cheeks, tucking his unraveled locks behind his ears. He stared up at you with puffy, pink-tinted eyes as you whispered encouraging words he knew you meant. You were proud of him, and he knew. But what you didn’t know was that this was his last chance to impress you; the last chance he would get before you separated into your separate lives. He didn’t know if he would see you again, and that broke his heart, maybe more than the fact that he didn’t attend Nationals yet again that year. The girl he’d loved for twelve years, the girl he vowed his time to. 

Just the year after you graduated, you sent Oikawa to the airport. Tears were shed, and the goodbyes were hard. You regretted not being able to support him more; to give him more than encouraging words. He regretted not being able to express his feelings for you, to ask you to leave with him. But those were just regrets. None of you dared to say them out loud, but you could both feel the lingering presence of wanting something more.

You tried getting into relationships with other people; just so the emptiness in your life would resolve. But none of them felt like him. None of them could make you smile as he did, none of them looked at you with fondness like he did, and none of them could ever make you feel like he did. Even as you saw his face on multiple posters in Tokyo, you couldn’t sense the feeling you were emitting. 

On a particular Saturday night with your new significant other, you two were talking about what to do for New Year. Of course, you suggested a night at home with a homemade dinner, but he suggested something over-the-top and dramatic. It’s not like you had minded going outside, but you just preferred to be inside on that night. You preferred not to see couples kissing as the timer ended, and you preferred not to hear the quiet ‘I love you’s’ that had once been yours. Something was mentioned about marriage, and you snapped back to reality. 

“Would you want to marry me someday, ____? We’ve been together a while now, and I love you. Don’t you love me?” your significant other remarked, eagerly waiting for your response. 

Your eyes widened, not being able to give him a solid response. It was at that moment where it hit you. You couldn’t ever love any of your significant others back in full, because you were already pre-occupied. Pre-occupied, with Oikawa Tooru, the boy you now realized that you had fallen in love with, all those years ago. You scrambled upright, striving to keep your patience.

“Look, you’re the sweetest and you seem so perfect. For someone else, since I don’t deserve you. I don’t think we should be together anymore.” you say, your breath becoming shaky at the last second. 

The person opposite you had their eyes widened, desperation reaching their eyes. You could feel yourself glance down, not daring to make eye-contact with them any longer than you intended. You heard a shaky breath and a big swallow before they opened their mouth to speak again. 

“Why? It’s okay if you feel you’re not good enough for me, and it’s okay if you need time. Please, just… talk to me?” you heard them say, and your eyes begged for you to let out the tears that had been pent up for so long. 

You looked up to see their oh-so forgiving eyes, almost forgetting the forsaken promise to yourself all those years ago. You shook your head and let your hands hang limply at your sides. 

“Please, just leave.” you whimpered, motioning to the door behind them. They stood staring at you, slightly struck by your sudden change of attitude. They reached to grab your hand, but you jerked your body away before they had the chance to have you regret your decision. 

With one final glance, they left your apartment. As soon as you heard the door close, you felt yourself collapsing, tears wracking your frail body. Why would you keep a promise that you could reasonably never fulfill? How could you love the same boy who flew to Argentina without a second doubt? Sobs could be heard echoing through your apartment building, the remembrance of the once love-of-your-life bringing an undeniable pain to your chest. The innocent six-year-old who captivated your heart in the sweltering summer heat of your kitchen; the one that gave you that dazzling smile that could make any girl swoon.

Memories flashed through your head as you reminisced about the brunette setter who was now thousands of miles away. Maybe if your current significant other had just waited a few more months… maybe you’d finally be over this crush that was lasting much too long to be healthy. You picked yourself up from the once-warm floor and made yourself to the comfort of your bed. Little did you know, exactly 11,307 miles away, Oikawa Tooru couldn’t get you off his mind. 

He never could. There would be the small things that reminded him of you, even when he was with other people. At times, he thought he could see your face in the crowds of Argentina, only to be heavily disappointed when reality kicked in. Oh, how he wished he asked you to come with him. Constant questions were always in his head, and they were always regarding you. Hell, he had even asked Iwaizumi for your number, only to chicken out at the actual texting part. How were you? Did you replace him already? Were you thinking of him like he was of you? The endless questions would keep him awake at night, and he could never find comfort in his own bed. 

It had been a ritual for him to put on ‘your’ song everywhere. In the car, after practice, his ringtone, and even while he was reading before bed. He would imagine you were there with him, dancing in his room to the slow melody. Frequently, he hovered over the call button to your contact. Of course, he never did, in the fear that you were living happily without him. The once-proud Oikawa Tooru would now give anything to see you again. 

Iwaizumi had long grown tired of his two closest friends constantly pining for each other, but never making a move. As much as he knew action needed to be taken, but since he was in California, he couldn’t do anything but listen to their complaints about one another. When he heard Oikawa was going home for Christmas, a plan formed in his head as he looked for the nearest plane tickets back to Tokyo. 

You were preparing to pick Iwaizumi up from the airport, deciding to wear a simple pair of baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. A sweatshirt that had been previously owned by no other person than Oikawa Tooru himself. You hadn’t seen Iwaizumi for so long; would the two of you still get along? As you were approaching your destination, you fiddled with your nails with worry. However, as soon as your eyes spotted Iwaizumi, you broke into a smile. 

He motioned openly for you to hug him, his broad chest now squashed against your cheek, still smelling like pine and the drift of expensive cologne. While he lifted you off his chest, you realized that there was someone behind him. Someone with oh-too familiar hair, someone who smelled like fresh flowers on a rainy day, someone who had those same hazel-brown eyes you had once adored. You stumbled back slightly in shock, not expecting to see him here with Iwaizumi. When had he come back from Argentina? Did he come with Iwaizumi? Why was he here? 

“Hey, _____,” he said, barely giving you any chance to speak. How was his voice still able to make your core shake? That annoyingly charming voice that you found insanely attractive. 

You opted to hide behind Iwaizumi, a chilling sensation running down your spine. You couldn’t see him today. Not after your newfound breakup. Or in correction, your newfound break up because of him. Too many memories would resurface, and you knew you couldn’t bear to see him leave again once you cozy-up to him once more. 

You could see the disappointed look in Oikawa’s brown orbs, which brought a pang of pain to your chest. His heart clenched at your rejection, still flashing that phony smile that masked his feelings. The same phony smile that both you and Iwaizumi knew better than to fall for. The next few moments were filled in silence, the three of you not knowing what to say. It was Iwaizumi that had made the first move, dragging his suitcase along the carpet of the boarding gate. 

It was at that moment that you realized you were still wearing Oikawa’s sweatshirt. It seemed like the realization hit Oikawa too, since a shit-eating grin was now visible on his face. Iwaizumi initiated small-talk, and before you knew it, you were falling into the trap named Oikawa Tooru. By the end of the day, it felt as if you three were back in high school, dangerously naïve. You instantly regretted not leaving sooner, knowing that you would catch yourself crying for a man that was thousands of miles away. 

You scratched the back of your neck sheepishly as you nudged Iwaizumi. The small action didn’t go unnoticed, as Oikawa gave you a small, sad smile before nodding a goodbye. You would probably never see him again, right? Why did you allow the aching pain that resided in your heart? As they walked you home, the talk died down with the remains of somber in the air. 

“This is my stop. I guess it’s goodbye?” you whisper to no one in particular, the tension still dwelling. Iwaizumi gave you a curt nod, but Oikawa opened his mouth to say something, the cold air being projected out of his mouth. 

“It’s not a goodbye, ____! I’m staying in Japan for a while… let’s keep in touch!” he said confidently, a smirk on his face. No, no, no. You feared that this would happen. You cringed imperceptibly at what he said but gave him a curt nod.

You excused yourself and wrapped the sweater tighter around you, the wind constantly blowing at your face. Iwaizumi gave you a firm departure hug, and you promised Oikawa you would keep in touch, knowing that you deleted his number a while ago.

The walk back home was filled with sorrow and regret; memories occasionally making an appearance as you dismissed them angrily. If only Oikawa hadn’t come back. The pain of seeing Oikawa so carefree and vibrant without you slapped the sense of reality back into your mind. He didn’t need you as much as you needed him. 

The days passed with you cooped up in your room, endless notifications and calls from Iwaizumi being the only contact you received from outside your home. Both you and Iwaizumi knew it was a bad idea for the two of you to meet again, but what else was he supposed to do? As much as he begged for you to give him a second chance, you refused. You vowed to both him and yourself that you wouldn’t speak to him again. 

Eventually, Iwaizumi relented with defeat. He knew you were insanely stubborn, and no amount of convincing could change your mind at this point. At this rate, he might as well have gone down on his knees and begged for you to speak to Oikawa again. He knew how much the two of you longed for each other, and that if you two could have better communication, it could work out. 

You frequently visited the roof that once had been your safe space; watching the stars on Oikawa’s thumping chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask why you constantly visited the same place repeatedly, even if the answer remained the same. He wasn’t there, plain and simple. Nothing felt right without him being there with you, and you found the aching in your chest growing stronger; fonder. 

While you were climbing up the ladder to what you promised yourself would be the last visit to the roof, you could hear the faint audio of your favorite song back in high school being played somewhere nearby. You walked to where the sound was, eventually growing louder and louder with every growing step. In the back of your mind, you hoped, prayed, that it was the boy that you had pined for all these years. 

When you turned the corner, you were greeted by the same coffee-brown eyes that had promised you a passionate future; a forever-lasting love. His eyes crinkled sheepishly, turning into dim crescents under the moon. God, he was even more beautiful in this lighting. 

“Care to dance?” he mumbled, a smirk tugging on the edges of his lips. 

You absentmindedly nodded, unaware of the sorrow this could cause you. Just one night, you promised to yourself. One night, and never again. 

The two of you danced under the moonlight, stuck in the feeling of each other’s arms. Accidental touches and shy glances were inevitable, and you grew warmer and warmer by the instant. 

“I missed you,” he murmured against your ear, his warm breath tickling your senses. 

“I missed you too,” you admitted, not giving a care about what tomorrow would hold for you. 

He grinned, mouth spreading and teeth shining into that same Cheshire grin he had reserved just for you. You mimicked him, heart eloping your chest. 

“Move to Argentina with me,” he said, abruptly stopping. 

Your eyes widened at his statement, barely registering what he was saying. When you failed to give him a response, he sighed in content while looking at you with a look that couldn’t be described as anything but pure fondness. 

“I love you. I always have, and I always will. You’re all that’s on my mind, and I’ll promise you the promises of a happy future. Preferably, with mini-me’s.” he chuckled at himself, still never leaving your side.

You gazed at him, mouth hanging open and immensely shocked. Your brain wanted to scream no, scream that they were just empty promises that he could never fulfill because of his love for volleyball. You would never be his number one priority. With a deep breath, you calmed yourself down, saying words that only the present you would say. 

“Oikawa. I’m not here as a second option, nor a backup toy for when your fangirls are becoming boring. Something’s wrong, I know you. Don’t come to me when things get hard.” you breathe, the harsh truth spilling out of your mouth, shocking both you and Oikawa. 

His hurt expression was more than enough to give you the validation that it was worth the risk. 

“Yeah, something’s wrong,” he admitted, inhaling sharp breaths. “You’ve been in my mind 24/7, that’s what’s wrong.” 

This man never failed to surprise you, your mouth now hanging slightly agape once more as you took in his words. Your cheeks were now dusted a tinted pink, quickly avoiding eye-contact. He lifted your chin, staring into your dilated orbs with confusion. 

“Don’t you still love me?” he asked, worry hidden behind the not-so-simple question, almost as if he feared the answer. 

“I do. Oh, god I do,” you replied quickly, the hesitation dissipating. You quickly clapped a hand over your mouth, not trusting it to portray your emotions. 

Oikawa’s eyes grew giddy with excitement, leaning in to uncover the hand from your mouth. 

“Move to Argentina with me,” he repeated, the confidence growing within him. 

Did he expect you to say yes? What about everything you had built for yourself here? How about the years of building those walls, only to have them knocked down again? You struggled out of his grasp, nearly knocking him over in the process. You ran towards the exit, your vision blurry as the feeling of heartbreak overwhelmed you. Oikawa Tooru was bad for your heart. 

You spent another month habituating in your dim room, contemplating your life decisions until now. You realized that Oikawa’s departure date was soon, and your heart clenched at the feeling of him leaving again. Before you knew it, you were grabbing your keys and running out the door. You and Oikawa had a promise to fulfill, and you had every intention of getting the validation you needed.

As you reached his apartment, you mercilessly banged on his door, not caring about the glares you received from angry neighbors. The door unlocked, and a pale-skinned boy with dark circles rimming his now dull eyes was standing barely inches apart from you. 

“Ask me again.” you panted, forgetting that you had run to his apartment in desperation. 

A look of confusion crossed his face as his brows furrowed further, causing you to stifle back a giggle. The realization was then seen on his face, and he looked down at an especially  interesting spot on the floor before uttering a response.

“Move to Argentina with me?” he stammered, and you could hear the uncertainty bound within his question.

“If you can wait for me, I’ll go,” you admitted with newfound confidence. 

The words were slightly more jumbled than the many times you had rehearsed, but you could tell that the point had come across. His eyes brightened almost immediately, and he grasped you into his arms with chaste kisses on the top of your head. 

“I’ve waited three years, I think I can wait longer.” he chuckled, still smothering you with sloppy kisses. 

You placed your cheeks on his abnormally cold cheeks, realizing that tears were dripping down his face. You grinned, giving him a chaste peck on the lips before stepping back. Your hands were now placed on his waist, and you enjoyed just being in his embrace for the time being.

“I’ll wait for however long you need, as long as you’re willing to have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments, kudos, and feedback are greatly appreciated!


End file.
